False Idols

"It is better not to touch our idols, the gilt comes off on our hands" - Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

I believed in you I held you high You took in the form of a halo On your sacred pedestal Did it hurt when you fell to the ground? I watched you shatter into pieces, fragments, lies We built you up Only to watch you crumble and break Everything I once knew has vanished Starting anew I learned my lesson Never again will I trust your bold faced lies You spit them out so sincerely Sick to see who you deceived They cry out in pain But I won’t shed a tear for you

Subscribe

Get Teen Ink’s 48-page monthly print edition. Written by teens since 1989.